What Remains
by Hedonistic Opportunist
Summary: I feel sorry for Shizuka. Watanuki/Haruka bonding piece, but with central focus on Doumeki/Watanuki Written for springkink.


_**What Remains **_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**Warning(s)**: a few instances of odd imagery and hints of Doumeki/Watanuki. Some (subtle?) hints of Watanuki/Yuuko. Since this is unbet'd, typos be here.

**A/N**: Feedback-wise, anything goes.

...

_Dreamscapes are fleeting, transient worlds_, Watanuki thinks as he finds himself in just one of those, _you leave them as soon as you enter them._

As always, he's in the company of Haruka – a man he's grown to cherish over the years because of his good humour and amiableness.

_Too bad, his grandson is nothing like this._

"I feel sorry for Shizuka," Haruka suddenly tells Watanuki. His tone doesn't betray any emotions – at least no unpleasant ones. Indeed, if it weren't for the gravity of his words, one could nearly believe that he was talking about the weather.

Yet, in spite of the fact that Haruka doesn't sound angry, Watanuki freezes, shock rustling down his spine as he tries to catch his breath. The attack is too sudden - too unexpected - and, if Watanuki had been younger, he'd be yelling and gesticulating frantically at this point.

But he doesn't. Instead, he pushes his glasses further up his nose and calmly - nearly coolly - answers: "Why would you feel sorry for Doumeki? He's got it good: he comes and goes out of the shop whenever he pleases, eating the food I cook without paying a dime for it."

It's silly and childish, Watanuki knows that but a part of him will never feel fully satisfied until he's complained about Doumeki. Even if the person sitting next to him is no one other but Doumeki's grandfather; however, since Haruka-san has never chided him for it, Watanuki feels that it's fine to say whatever is on his mind.

That's one thing he can't do with Doumeki.

"Ah, I was expecting you to say that," Haruka says with a grin and takes a draw of his cigarette, clearly enjoying the activity; Watanuki dimly wonders if he also smoked that much while he was still alive and if, perhaps, this habit led to his demise.

_Maybe that's the good thing about being dead – you don't have to worry about getting cancer any longer_, Watanuki thinks and shakes his head. If there's one thing that Haruka-san and Doumeki have in common, then it's that they both know how to enjoy things. For Haruka-san it's cigarettes, while Doumeki consumes Watanuki's food with – as he suspects – much pleasure.

_It's not like I can really tell, seeing how he's about as expressive as a piece of rock. Thank God, Haruka-san knows how to smile._

"But you know," Haruka says as he looks up at the moon "it can't be denied that he's useful too, can it ?"

Although Watanuki's sixteen-year-old self feels like calling Doumeki the most useless and good for nothing fellow he's ever met, eventually his more mature self gains the upper hand over his more bratty impulses and, hesitantly, he says: "Yes, he's good for errands."

Haruka smiles impishly and Watanuki immediately senses that he's amused by something. "Only that? You sure you don't need Doumeki for something else, too?"

Haruka's smile and knowing look imply that he isn't talking about errands right now.

Watanuki's cheeks redden and he feels like protesting everything, but he remembers that it's really futile to deny anything now. After all, ever since they've met, Haruka-san has had the uncanny ability to read him like no one else ever has. So, Watanuki opens his mouth to say something along the lines of"_he'susefulforthattoobutI'drathernottalkaboutit"_, but is – much to relief - stopped by Haruka.

"Don't worry, I don't want to hear any specific details," Haruka says and chuckles a bit," I don't think it's any of my concern what you and Shizuka do or don't do in the bedroom."

Watanuki reddens a bit more, cringing when he reflects upon how much Haruka must know already. "Then why bring it up, Haruka-san?"

Haruka is no longer smiling and has stopped smoking, holding the cigarette between two tips of his fingers; cigarette ashes fall to the ground, spreading over it like freshly-fallen snow.

Watanuki stiffens, waiting for the inevitable blow.

"Because it _is_ my concern to worry about Shizuka – and you too. I fear that, if things are going to remain the way they are now, neither of you will end up being very happy in the future."

"I'm sorry that I can't undo what I've done. And Doumeki ... well, Doumeki decided on his own. I never asked him to stay; he could have left anytime," Watanuki says, head throbbing as he hears all the unspoken accusations rush through his head. It's not as if he hasn't tried to get rid of Doumeki; he's attempted to push away that idiot so many times that it's grown tedious.

"I know," Haruka says and laughs, "Perhaps, I was wrong in saying that I feel sorry for Shizuka. Maybe, the real hero in this tragedy are you, Watanuki."

Watanuki doesn't ask why; he knows the answer already, but he doesn't stop Haruka from speaking: it must be the masochist in him, always eager for a bit of whipping.

"Shizuka will die one day: regretful of a few choices perhaps, but at least in the knowledge that he did everything he could do for you. Moreover, he's the not one who's going to be left behind."

_But I've already been left behind – a part of me is already torn in half. It hardly matters if the other half gets ripped apart as well_, Watanuki wants to say, feeling the words on his lips, but he doesn't utter a word.

"No, that would only be me," Watanuki states and, reaching for his pocket, takes out his pipe _(though not really his, but hers - a keepsake that not only brings back memories, but also pain and longing_). After lighting the pipe, he sticks it into his mouth and inhales – tobacco fills his lungs and Watanuki – as he watches the smoke drift away into the sky - understands once again why Yuuko did this so often.

For a short while, it dulls your senses and makes everything you worry about appear insignificant.

"But you're wrong about one thing, Haruka-san. I'll never be entirely alone, will I?"

It's not a question, but a fact. A fact that is as undeniable as the one that, as long as she doesn't come back, Watanuki will remain here: a willing prisoner defying Time – temporarily unchanged and forever young.

Haruka merely smiles as he resumes smoking,"No, what won't change is this – I'll always be here."

...


End file.
